The Fault In Our Music- A McLennon Story
by Beatles-McLennon
Summary: Paul McCartney has Leukaemia. He attends a support group and he is doing pretty shit, thanks. That is until he meets John Lennon, an attractive young man who may or may not be suicidal. Paul has decided to live his life, however short that may be. based on John Green's The Fault In Our Stars. WARNING: slash between Paul McCartney and John Lennon. AU story
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

—-

I had just turned 17 and my father (my ever present, scolding father) had decided, entirely upon himself as I was not included in his idea at all, I was depressed. When he told me this I laughed-long and hard and the moment I saw his face I regretted it but I didn't tell him that. Anyway, of course I was depressed-not I want to kill myself depressed but depressed enough not to have the drive to get out of bed or think of anything but dying and Cancer (did I forget to mention I had that?). I had even lost the interest I had in my Guitar my father began to worry more then, he disapproved of my love of the instrument but he knew how much it meant to me (I basically played it non-stop for a little under four years). So my father's brilliant plan to get me to brighten up (his words not mine) was to send me to a Support Group…..yes because a room full of other dying, depressed people would definitely make me feel better.

I had been going to the Support Group for two months already and everyday was the same.

First we all arrived at the at St. Peter's Parish Church in Woolten on Saturday in the Afternoon. Once we were all inside we rearranged the chairs to form a 'sharing circle'.

Secondly we'd introduced ourselves: Name. Age. Diagnosis. And how we were doing that day. When the circle finally all looked at me I'd say: my name is Paul, I'm 16, I have Leukaemia and I'm doing shit, thanks. I got shocked and disapproving looks each time, especially from our Support Group leader Mal Evans. The only person who laughed was the person next to me. A boy by the name of George Harrison, he was a year younger than me and he had throat cancer (we'd often joke about him being a heavy smoker and him dying with that weighed on his chest, we got even more disapproving looks at that).

George was a happy, funny, sick, lovely boy and he was the only thing that kept me sane during each support group. He was my best friend. He truly was.

Once all the introductions were complete Mal would ask every one of us if we had anything to share. To me that was the worst part. And so began the hour of tears and encouraging words (I'm not being cynical, it's not like I hate other people showing weakness and being strong…it's just i made a promise to never cry at one of these stupid meetings and hearing the terrible things all these people have gone through brought hot tears to my sunken eyes).

There was one girl by the name of Jane Asher who sat opposite me during these groups. She was beautiful and so lively, she always had a smile and a laugh ready but she wore long sleeves and jumpers too big for her and when all the attention was somewhere else or when she thought no-one was looking Jane got really quiet and sad and I couldn't look at her eyes without wanting to cry at how unfair everything was.

One young boy, Bob Dylan, would stand up and say something that didn't make any sense but by the end of his speech about something that didn't make sense everyone would clap and tell him how amazing and inspirational his words were. He annoyed me, simply because whatever he said never inspired me in anyway.

There were more people who stood up and talked about how they were getting on and how strong they were and when their show and tell started to sound too rehearsed George would nudge me and we'd share a look and try our hardest not too laugh.

"I don't want to go" I said simply the next Saturday when my father told me to get ready for support group.

"What?" He asked but he didn't sound surprised, he just sounded tired and I felt guilty at that.

"I'll start to play my Guitar again if you just don't make me go" I wasn't going to but I couldn't go to support group, sure I loved being with George and laughing away our illnesses but the whole room depressed me.

My father only shook his head at me before walking out of my room.

"Get up." My younger brother Mike, well his names Peter but he likes Mike but I have no idea why, I hate both names, glared at me from the door to my room.

"What?" I asked uninterested.

"Please" I looked at my brother and saw the raw sadness and pleading in his eyes and not even 20 minutes later I was ready.

I walked in side by side with George and I noticed something knew straight away. Two new people. One was a blonde kid and the other…the other had his hair done up like an old styled Teddy Boy, he was wearing a checked shirt and tight black pants and it took me a second to realise he was staring at me (only took me less than to determine he was hot….wait, did I forget to mention I was gay?).

"Who's he?" I hissed the question at George and my face began to flush when I saw the boy with the checked shirt start to grin.

"Him?" George asked dumbly. "I dunno"

"Why do I keep you around?" I asked fondly and patted his head (He didn't have much hair, You see-Just like me) and I laughed when George tried to bite my hand out of protest.

I snuck a glance back at the unnamed boy and was surprised to find that he was still staring at me. I had to resist the erge to march over to him and ask him what his problem was but my problem was that I was too shy.

So I just pulled George over to the seats and sat down, not even a second later the boy in the checked shirt and his blonde friend came and sat opposite of us. I tried to get him off my mind and instead I just thought about where Jane was going to sit.

He was still staring at me though.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two:

And so the meeting began. As usual. Exactly the same.

(Except that bloody boy was still staring at me)

The share circle finally started and I glared at the ground when I could just feel the grin coming off the boy staring at me.

"I'm Pete Shotton, I'm 17 and I have a brain tumour and I'm-I'm okay" the blonde kid who was with the boy in the checked shirt said.

Pete. The tumour must only be in its earliest stages but I still felt a bit sad for the older boy.

"I'm George Harrison, I'm 16, I have Lung cancer (No Paulie, I don't smoke but I do wish I could have a ciggy right now) and I'm fine." George answered when the circle came to him. I smiled as he leaned back in his chair and sneered sat Mal jokingly.

"My name is Paul, I'm 17, I have leukaemia and I'm doing shit, thanks" I don't know why people still looked at me in shock when I said that.

I looked in front of me and saw the same boy still grinning at me from the opposite side of the circle. He inclined his head in a questioning manner and I only shrugged as a reply.

I groaned quietly when Bob Dylan stood up as soon as Mal asked someone to share.

He started to drone on and on about life and how he was happy to live it but hearing him say that didn't make me happy in the least-because I wasn't living. I was barely surviving, I was terminal, already dead in the eyes of too many doctors.

I looked up and once again was at the receiving end of that grin. The boy nodded towards Bob and made a gagging gesture and I had to hide a giggle (I'm ashamed to say It was a giggle), which only made the boy grin wider.

And as the meeting went on it became the same again. The same people cried and yelled over the same things, the same people blamed the same people for their unhappiness and I didn't even move or really begin to think until Mal began to talk to me.

"Paul" Mal gestured to me with a smile. "Is there anything you'd like to share with the group? Anything about you? Your fears?"

I thought for a moment. My fears? I didn't have many, I mean at this stage if I didn't fear death I reckon I must be pretty hard.

"Life" I said after a moment of silence. "I fear life" everyone was silent again even George, who usually commented on nearly everything I said.

Mal looked at me with a confused and slightly concerned stare and I had to hold in a laugh.

"I fear life and the possibility you may be remembered after you finally get away from it-that'd be terrifying, being remembered." I felt like I needed to elaborate, explain even though I knew no-one else would understand. Their all too busy trying to leave marks on the world, trying to be remembered themselves.

It was silent until the boy in the checked shirt whistled and nodded at me.

"You are something mate, truly something."

I stared at the boy. I've concluded that he's an idiot.

I didn't speak again during the meeting.

After the final person shared their deep feelings, I quickly got up and sat in an old, dirty chair in the corner of the church. I usually sit there and just think about How one day it might be the last time I ever sit here and it's both scary and exciting at the same time. I just stared at all the people in the room and just…thought about them. They were all so sad and they depressed me so much. Like:

Mick Jagger sat in the circle and never said anything, He was only there so his drug addict friend Keith attended. Keith never noticed how sad and tired Mick looked and I never understood why Mick even hung around the boy anymore.

"Well aren't you thinking hard." My head snapped up when I heard that deep, purring voice and was surprised to the point of heart attack when I saw it was the boy in the checked shirt.

He was standing in front of me with his hand on his hip and a grin gracing his flawless face.

"I'm John" He introduced himself. "And you?"

So John was his name, I briefly wondered if his name was John like my name was Paul but I decided that was dumb because 'John' did suit him.

"I'm Paul" I said, I was confused because I was sure he should have heard me when I introduced myself in the group circle.

"Paul" John repeated. "Now, what are you thinking about?"

"Why were you staring at me?" I asked completely ignoring his question, I wanted to know and I really hoped it was a good answer, an interesting one.

"I think you're very good looking and I like looking at good looking people, it brightens me day mate I tell you."

I stared at John and once again concluded that he was an idiot. Me? Good looking? I looked down at my clothes and I was just wearing black pants, a white shirt and a white jacket and I pictured what my face looked like and I knew any good feature I had was overshadowed by my Cancer baldness (because you could tell as soon as you saw me) and my terrible cancer body. I really wasn't good looking. I was too feminine, too sick.

I looked up at John. He was good looking.

"Hey Paul" George walked over to me and stopped when he saw me having a small staring contest with John.

"You alright?" He asked me. He then looked at John and narrowed his eyes slightly. "Who are you?"

John shrugged and just continued to grin at me.

Soon enough, Pete Shotton walked over to us. He saw me and nudged John and winked at him.

"What?" I said in a bitchy tone and George sneered at them behind me.

"We should go out." John said while looking me in the eye.

What? I hadn't gone out with anyone since I got cancer and John was a stranger. A weird, idiotic, hot stranger.

George raised his eyebrow at John but didn't protest. He simply patted my shoulder and smiled fondly at me. No, no, no, no, I knew that smile. He was about to leave because he thought going out with a complete stranger would 'Help' me with my 'People' skills. No.

I tried to reach for George as he walked away but my legs got tangled in the chair leg and I fell on my face.

"He's all yours Johnny Boy" I heard Pete laugh and when I looked up he was gone too. That left just me and John staring at each other again, I really hoped that didn't become a regular thing.

"Come on Son, let's go outside." I don't know why I took John's hand when he offered me it. I guess George would say I'm not desperate I'm just lonely…I think that may be worse though.

"So, what's your name?" John asked again when he finally walked out of the church.

"Paul" I said slowly. Maybe he was retarded, I couldn't see what was wrong with him so maybe it was in his brain.

"No ya daft git. Your full name." John shook his head at me like I was the stupid One.

"Paul McCartney." I answered while I glared at him.

"I'm John Lennon".

John Lennon. I'm sure I've heard that name before.

"You know" he said. "You look a lot like Elvis"

I blushed at the compliment. I loved Elvis so that was one of the biggest compliments I've heard in a while.

"We should go to my place and watch a movie he was in. I swear if you just put on some more weight you two would be the same bloody person!" He laughed and clapped me on the shoulder and I swear I saw affection shine in his eyes. "You are prettier than Elvis though" he continued.

"You just ruined that moment." I mumbled with a small smile.

He smiled at me. I've already decided I loved his smile.

Only a few seconds later my Father was marching towards us with a strong glare covering his face.

"Paul, it's time to leave." He said. His voice was harsh and out of the corner of my eye I saw John cross his arms and narrow his eyes.

"Paul" My father said again with warning. He glared at John.

I looked at my dad and glanced quickly at John. There were two things He could do. Stay with John or go with my dad, I knew as soon as I got home my Dad was going to lecture me about whoever he thought John was.

"You always wanted me to make more friends." I muttered.

My father glared at me. I looked up and tried to smile at him.

"I'm going to watch a movie at John's place." And with that I sharply turned, grabbed a hold of John's arm and quickly walked away.

I hadn't realized how far away John's house was and by the time we arrived at his home I was horribly tired. I was huffing for breath but I slapped away John's hand when he tried to help me, I glared at him when I could feel that grin forming behind my back.

John opened the door and walked on dragging me behind him.

"Mimi! Where are ya!" He yelled.

An old-ish looking, thin women walked out of What I assumed was the living room.

"John don't yell in my home" she said in a scolding tone that reminded me too much if my dad. I started to relax next to John when she turned her cold eyes on me.

"Who's this?"

"Paul McCharmly" John answered with a mocking look which received a glare from Mimi in return.

"Anyway, we've got to be going. Gonna go watch a movie with Paulie's doppelganger" John grabbed my hand (my hand not my arm, he put his hand in my hand) and dragged me to his room.

John's room was…for lack of a better word: Beautiful. There were posters of old rock legends on the walls, a Rickenbacker 325 leaning on his bed, old records, New CDs. It, too anyone else, would look horribly messy but to me…it truly was beautiful. Not like my room. I had thrown most of my things out in a panic attack last year. I'd rather not talk about it.

"So that was your daddy." John laughed. "Right bastard." I was too tried from the wall to this place to defend my dad at the moment.

"Glad I don't have one." John muttered, I'm not sure if he wanted me to hear but I did and I decided not to say anything.

"What about your mum? She a loon like your dad?" He asked me, his back was facing me while he searched for the Elvis Presley movie.

"She's dead." I said and winced when I heard how robotic my voice sounded. "Cancer. When I was 14."

John didn't turn around, he stayed silent.

I turned my head to look at the many shelves in the room and the one closest to the bed had five white bottles sitting in a straight row. Medication. So you really couldn't see what was wrong with him.

"My mum's-she's dead too" I looked back at John and found he was now facing me with a small, tired smile on his face. He looked so young and even though I had only just met the boy it felt odd seeing him like that.

I stared at him and he stared back and it felt too familiar and too vulnerable and I didn't like the way his eyes seemed so sad because someone like him shouldn't look like that and I missed his grin. That grin.

"I found the movie." He said breaking the eye contact as he lifted up the old movie. Elvis was on the cover, smiling.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three:

We sat silently next to each other on John's bed watching 'Love Me Tender'. I tried my best not to mention the various bottles of Medication next to his bed, we hadn't even talked about our mothers...it wasn't as if we had to and I didn't really even want to but it just made the atmosphere awkward and the photo of the pretty, red haired women became more obvious.

"I can see the resemblance, it's uncanny." I said trying to break the silence as I looked at the TV. I usually love the quiet but with John it didn't seem natural.

"Told ya" and that grin was back but something in his eyes wasn't the same as before.

"Stop looking at me Meds ya queer." He laughed. I hadn't even noticed I was looking. I stuttered out an excuse but John just laughed and shook his head but he still didn't say why he took the meds or what kind they were and I'm ashamed to admit that annoyed me.

"You are gay aren't you?" He asked and I nodded dumbly. John smiled at me and didn't bring up the subject again.

"What are the meds for?" I asked and I didn't even cringe at the sound of my voice, I wanted to know. I hope that doesn't make me sound like a bad person but honestly at this point I don't really care.

"So I don't kill myself or something equally as dramatic." He answered. I stared at John and I only now realised the single, thick white scar going across his left wrist. I didn't want to know anymore so I just slapped John on the back of his head and I hoped he knew what I meant (because I sure as hell didn't).

John finally looked at me again, stared me straight in the eye and I have now decided I wouldn't mind if this becomes a regular thing, and smiled. I really do love that smile.

"Have you heard this new group?" John asked me as he walked me out the door.

"I don't listen to music anymore" I answered honestly and I chuckled at the horror on his face.

"It's a new group, being managed by a bloke called Brian Epstein. He's pretty good, the queer can get anyone famous I tell you." I nodded at what he said and I saw something light up in John's eyes. It was the same look I use to get in my eyes when I leant a new chord or better yet a new song.

John handed me the CD of that group that gay guy managed and grinned at me as he made me promise to listen to them. I smiled at him and nodded my head.

"I'll ring you when I've finished 'em" I promised.

"You don't even have my number." John whined and waved his arms around like an idiot and that made me laugh. It was odd to me because the only person who made me laugh like that was George now a days.

"I strongly suspect you slipped it in the CD."

"You are truly something Paulie, I mean it."

And I believe him.

I got home pretty late that night.

As soon as I walked through the door I saw my brother sitting on the couch, as soon as he saw me Mike glared at me. I ignored him and walked up to my room.

"James." I closed my eyes briefly when my Dad walked into my room.

"John Lennon. John Lennon, really?" My dad asked me and I knew he thought I was an idiot for hanging around John, I don't even want to know what he'd say if I told him I fancied John Lennon, the Liverpool troublemaker.

"Are you an idiot? Are you mentally ill?" He asked me.

"No, I'm not. God, dad you're the one who said I should make more friends." I just wanted my dad to know John wasn't a bad person. He was a funny, suicidal boy who lost his mother and it wasn't fair that my dad didn't see that.

"He'll drag you into trouble Paul and you know that. Don't forget that you are sick-"

"Like you'll ever let me forget!" I knew I shouldn't have said that. My Dad did all he could, it was me who was the bad person and I sure as hell acted like one.

My Dad looked at me and his eyes made me hate myself more, he walked out of the room and I hit myself in the head. Hard. I think I cried but I couldn't remember.

I eventually listened to the CD John had given me and I have to admit it was good, that Epstein bloke really knew the good groups. It took me a minute or two to remember I promised to ring him.

"Hello." I smiled when I heard John's voice.

"Hey" I said back.

"Finished the songs then?" He asked and I laughed at the excitement in his voice.

"Yep"

"Well?"

I laughed.

"Their alright."

"Just alright?" I loved the irritation I heard in his voice.

I think I just like his voice overall.

"You are such a twat, Macca. I swear to God." John muttered loudly.

I laughed again.

"I'm glad your laughing cause I was gonna just ignore the sobbing at the start of this phone call but because you're happy now I don't think it matters."

Sobbing? I brought a hand up to my face and I closed my mouth in a tight line when I felt wet tears on my face.

"Yeah" I said simply. I sounded so dumb and I was embarrassed I sounded so dumb talking to John.

"You right Paulie?"

"Yeah"

"So, what did you actually think of Epstein's group?"

I laughed. Again. And I didn't stop for a good two minutes.

"Their good John, God their so good"

I could practically feel him grinning through the phone.

"That's just fab, Gear!" He laughed and put on a thick Scouse accent like George's. I smiled. I seem to be doing that a lot.

"I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"You seem eager." I said in a purring sort of tone, I hadn't flirted with anyone for a while but I wanted to with John.

"I am eager. I want to see you again tonight but I'm willing to wait all of tonight and some of tomorrow." I loved the sound of John's voice, that innocent almost seductive tone made me smile and laugh and blush all at the same time and I knew John knew what he did to me.

"See you tomorrow." I whispered.

"I'll come by your place, then?"

I thought for a moment. Actually thought.

"Yeah." And I hung up straight after.

When I got up I heard my phone ringing. I swore loudly and picked it up with a stone cold glare.

"What?" I asked coldly. I finally knew what George meant when he said I was a bitch in the morning.

I heard a sharp intake of breath from the other side of the phone and a small, almost unbearable sob.

"It's Pete." I heard John's voice finally say. "He's at the hospital so I can't-I can't be on that date right now, Paulie God I'm sorry, Macca-"

"I'll be at the Hospital in an hour."

It took me ten minutes to convince my dad That Pete was a close friend of mine and that I had to be there for him and I was glad my dad agreed to not come into the Hospital with me.

Once I was told what room Shotton was in I ran, I knew John would be there.

"Hey Johnny." I greeted the older boy quietly.

He sat on the chair closest to Pete who was unconscious in The bed. He looked so pale and sick and young and fragile and even though I wasn't friends with the boy I felt sick seeing him in that condition.

"Hey Paul." John's voice sounded dead and I wanted to cry.

"How is he?" I wasn't looking at John, I was looking at Pete. God he looked dead.

"Sick" he answers dryly. John smiled apologetically at me when he saw me flinch at his cold tone.

I sat down next to John in the seat next to his and didn't say another word. I just slowly took his hand in mine and looked at Pete. John squeezed my hand but had an annoyed look on his face as if he didn't want to hold my hand but he couldn't stop himself from doing so.

"Fuck" I swore. "Shit. Johnny I'm so, so fucking...pissed off" I was. I didn't know Pete but he was a just a kid like any other fucking person. His smile was the same, and if God didn't Fuck everything up his life would have been the same too.

John laughed and hit my head with his.

I felt so close with John and it was so weird, I had literally met this boy a day ago and I was trying to comfort him because his friend was dying.

Life is weird. There wasn't any other way to describe it.

I sat next to John and just held his hand as we looked at Pete. I glanced at John from the corner of my eye and I just wanted to kiss him and I wanted to see if it would help or if it would make things worse.

"He tried so hard to convince himself He was fine and then he just fell and he still hasn't gotten up." John said with a harsh look in his eyes.

"He was just trying to feel better." I said because I did that too. I use to pretend to be fine because I thought that would make me healthy again.

"But he didn't get better. Do you know why that is?"

"Well, I-no."

John turned his head and looked at me, straight in the eyes like he's done every other time.

"Because that's the thing about Pain, Paul. It demands to be felt."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four:

When I left the Hospital it was the last time I saw John for a week. I texted him and hell I probably even thought about him But I didn't see him at all. I was busy going to the Hospital for treatment and thinking about Pete (I still feel sick whenever I picture him in my mind).

On Sunday I met with my old school friend Ivan. We talked about my leukaemia and how I was getting on and when I started to feel sad we talked about his life and all the girls he wanted to shag and we laughed. We even talked about John because it turns out Ivan knew him, actually it was Ivan who convinced John to attend the Support Group the day we met. I had a lot of fun. Hanging out with Ivan was different than hanging out with George, I'm not gonna say its better but it's just different. With Ivan I don't have to look at what Cancer does to a person, I get to look at a healthy living person but with George I see how small and sick he is and that puts a downer on any good mood we had.

Tuesday night I was sitting at the kitchen table eating dinner with my younger brother and my dad. Mike was talking about something he did at school and I have to admit I felt jealousy exploding in my stomach, my dad had taken me out of school about two years ago and sure I still talk to Ivan but overall I speak to no-one I use to spend all day with (it's not too bad because if I didn't get taken out of school I wouldn't have met George but I still get jealous whenever Mike talks about his school because It's just another constant reminder that I'm sick and not like everyone else) and I could tell my dad was trying to his best to not go off on a speech about how John Lennon was a bad influence but still I guess as far as family dinners go this one was pretty good. I felt happy, Mike was laughing and My Dad was smiling.

Finally though my brother started to talk about music and what Chord he was trying to learn in music class and my dad followed up by saying something along the lines of 'don't try to be a musician Mike, be a teacher or a doctor. Why don't you stick with photography?' I ate quickly and excused myself as fast as I could. I snatched my phone off the counter and looked at the missed calls log 'John Lennon'.

"Hey" I greeted when John rang me three minutes later. I was sitting on my bed looking at a guitar George had drawn me.

"You'll never guess what I did." He voice sounded excited and happy and just altogether different from that time in the hospital.

"You've had your cancer slash dying slash pity wish that you get right?" I hated the way John asked questions but still I knew what he meant.

"Yeah"

"What Did you get?"

"Höfner...but that was before-"

"The whole panic attack I'm gonna die might as well throw out all my cool shit thing?" John interrupted and once again I could feel his grin through the phone.

"Yes" I gritted out, I didn't get pissed with John often but he didn't really know when to shut his mouth and even though I've only known him a week I could tell that wasn't going to change.

"Well apparently suicidal teens get a wish too" I hated how he talked about suicide so openly as if it wasn't a problem for him but someone else.

"I want to take you to London with me" John said and I could he was smiling that brilliant wide smile that I love.

"What? John, why?" I was confused. Course I fucking was, John Lennon wanted to take me to London? I'd be jumping for joy if I wasn't so bloody confused.

"That's where Brian Epstein's office is! George told me how good you are on a Guitar! Paul if we show Epstein how talented we are who knows what will happen!"

"George? What? John, I haven't played in a long time and who says that queer will even want to see us?" I had no idea John Even knew how to sing or play any instrument, sure he had that Guitar but that didn't mean shit.

"I talked to his assistant, bloke by the name of Richard Starkey. Said we can come down and meet the man himself."

"John, I can't accept-"

"Paul ever since you got your leukemia you've been taken over by it! Live a little, you deserve a life Macca, you do. Come with me to London, go with me anywhere and I promise you'll have the time of your life, however short that may be. Don't let being sick get in the way of your life, you're better than that."

I was silent for a long time, I was just staring the wall with the phone of my hand and wide eyes. He was right, John was right. I'd been living my sickness and I've based my whole life around it but it was scary thought to leave that. Living life is harder than dying.

"Go on a date with me. A proper one. And I swear by the end of it you'll want to come to London with me."

"Ok" I barely crocked out.

"Tomorrow at five, I'll be at your place." After he said that John hung up. I stared at my phone with a blank expression until a text came through from John 20 minutes later.

Pete woken up, he's fine!

A second text came a few seconds after.

I mean he still has a tumour. So that's unfortunate.

I laughed. I laughed and I smiled and I imagined John's face and our date tomorrow and I fell on my bed with a girly giggle.

I was happy I was the person He talked to about Pete. I was his person. I knew that.

The next day my dad drove me to George's place to see him at 3.

I said hello to his parents before walking to his room.

"So" I began. George looked up from his Guitar and smiled at me. "You don't John about my old hobby?"

George laughed and starched his head.

"Yeah...what he say?"

"He's wants to take me to London with him." George looked at me and his body shook with laughter.

"I thought he was only joking when he said that." George laughed out.

I glared at him jokingly before sitting next to him on the bed.

"Here" George handed me the Guitar and motioned me to play.

I blushed and fiddled with the Guitar in my lap. I hadn't played in a long time. I wrote songs but I'd never dream of playing again. I'd never even shown anyone what I'd written before, not even George.

I looked up and the look on George's face made me gulp. He looked so young and so proud of himself, He finally got me to hold a guitar again-he'd wanted nothing more than to hear me play. Finally, being the good big brother I wanted to be, I picked up the instrument and began to play.

_I, I saw a girl in my dreams,_

_And so it seems_

_That I will love her._

_Oh, you, you are that girl in my dreams,_

_And so it seems_

_That I will love you._

_And I, I, I, I, I,_

_Waited for your kiss,_

_Waited for the bliss,_

_Like dreamers do._

I stopped abruptly when I saw the shocked look at George's face.

"What?" I asked. Was the song that bad? Was I stupid enough to think I actually still sounded any good?

"Did you write that?" George asked and his eyes were wide with something akin to admiration.

"Yeah" I answered dumbly, confused at that look that shone clearly in his eyes.

"Oh that Eppy with love ya Paulie"

I smiled at George and I laughed.

God I hope he does.

We talked for a good hour about anything. We talked about John, school, death, girls, boys, life, we laughed and I've decided I definitely like being with George better than Ivan.

I waved Goodbye to George as I left but he ran up and hugged me instead. I think he's doing that a lot more, touching and talking. He wants people to know he loves them if he dies.

You at home?

A text from John read.

Uh...no, I'm not.

I replied a minute later.

I knew that! Wanna know how? I'm out the front of your house now.

I groaned quietly but smiled fondly at the phone.

When me and my dad got home we saw John standing out the front of the house laughing with Mike and holding a bouquet of red flowers.

"Flowers? Really?" I whispered with a smile when my dad and I reached the door.

"You seem like a flower kinda guy." He replied trying to ignore my Dad's harsh glare.

When we all finally got inside I announced that I was going up to my room to put the flowers there, and when I motioned for John to follow my dad reached out a hand and patted John's shoulder and assured me that was could wait a few while I put the flowers away.

I walked to my room and I saw my dad wave Mike out of the room.

I put the flowers near the bed, I knew the flowers would have a better chance of surviving if they were in the living room but I wanted them close to me because they were mine. Only mine.

As I walked back to the living I heard my dad and John speaking (arguing would be the correct term)

Dad: he's sick You know.

John: I know that Ji-Sir, I'm helping him live.

Dad: Paul's terminal. He's going to think he can do everything you can but he. Won't. Be. Able. To. I don't want you getting him into something he shouldn't be getting into.

John: he deserves to live doesn't he? Would you rather him die quietly or live a little?

Before my dad could answer I plastered on a smile and walked into the living room.

"I'm ready!" I announced.

"Inside voice" my dad scolded with a faint, fatherly smile. He only wanted the best for me, I knew that but he didn't go about it the right way. Or maybe he did and I was just reacting badly.

"Come on then son" John offered me his arm with a wink (I think my dad might have seen that because he narrowed his eyes in a warning gesture), I held his arm in mine and just before we walked out of the house I saw Mike smiling at me from the kitchen door and I think I might have caught a glimpse of my dad's face softening.

We walked around for a long time just talking. When I would look at him I'd wonder if he was thinking about kissing me because I was thinking about kissing him and I wondered if he knew that.

We ended up lying on our backs in Strawberry field looking at the stars.

"What was she like?" John asked. "Your mum I mean."

I thought for a moment, racked my brain for a good enough word.

"She was...nice. very posh and amazingly kind. Better than me." I ended with a laugh. John looked at me and there was there was something in his eyes I never wanted to see again: Pity.

"What about your mum?" I asked changing the subject off me.

"Crazy" he answered and we both laughed. "She was...but she was beautiful and she taught me how to play the Banjo, but I'm trying to teach meself the Guitar cos I broke me Banjo a bit back" John prattled on and I just looked at him, admired him. He was so...beautiful, handsome or whatever word you could use to describe someone that looked like John.

John turned his head to look at me and I wondered again if he wanted to kiss me.

"Wanna go to me place?"

I nodded and we got up.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five:

I was sitting on John's bed smiling at him as he tried to learn the chords to the song Blue Moon. I knew it and I probably should have helped him but the look of concentration on his face was too adorable.

"Fuck this" He muttered. John put the Guitar between us on the bed and glared at it darkly. I chuckled at him warmly.

"What?" John snapped at me with no venom.

I just shook my head and called him an idiot, I think he heard the affection in my voice because instead of getting angry He only grinned at me.

When John left the room to go to the toilet I gently picked up his Guitar (it wasn't the Rickenbacker, it was just a regular Acoustic) and began to play Blue Moon. I don't know why. When George convinced me to play again it made me happy and for some reason I just wanted to be happy...overall and just right now.

I began to mumble the lyrics and I smiled.

I almost dropped the Guitar when a voice behind me started to sing too.

"You're so bashful Paulie." John cooed as he sat down next to me. "I'm glad you're so good that'll help when we go to London."

So he was serious about that still.

"John-" I tried to protest but as he always did John interrupted me.

"Why do you have to live in self-pity? Why not go to London? Have fun-be with me. What's the worst thing that could happen?"

I stayed silent.

"See? Nothing." John looked proud of himself. He had his arms crossed and a smug smirk plastered across his face.

I started to cry.

I have no idea why, but I saw the scars on John's wrist and I saw the photo of his mum and I thought of my mum and I remembered the bottles of Meds John had near his bed and I thought of Pete and George and Jane and Bob and Mick and Keith and I cried.

John started at me in shock before pulling me into his lap. He wrapped his arms around me and I don't remember what he said but I started to laugh and then he followed. I don't know if John was crying but I remember him kissing my head and me wishing it was my lips but I was too tried to tell him that.

"I hope I die before I get old." I said when we had both calmed down.

We were lying on John's bed and I was half on his chest with both his arms wrapped around me.

"Come with me to London and you'll feel young" John promised and I suddenly realized our dumb our situation was.

We were kids and we were acting like Adults. I wasn't going to make it to adulthood and I had no idea what would become of John.

"Ok" I crocked out, my voice was sore from crying but I knew John heard me.

"She was crazy." John said out of nowhere and I knew he was talking about his mum. "Bonkers, I mean she had to be to give me up"

"The fledgling genius that you probably were" I added while tears were still streaming down my face.

"Exactly." John agreed, His eyes were red but he wore a smile. "Mimi took me in when I was five. Saw me mum again when I was 16...she died last year." I expected John to start sobbing but he laughed.

"Two blokes with dead mums, what a trick this is" I started to laugh too. It felt odd but somehow natural in some way, but I knew if anyone else was laughing I'd punch them (I knew John would too) because this was our thing-me and John-no one else's. This was our connection...or well it's what I'll tell people our connection is because that's the simple answer.

I snuggled into John's chest more and closed my eyes while I breathed in his scent. Fuck I was totally whipped.

"My shirts wet now" my eyes flew open at John's whining tone.

"What?" I asked in a deadpan voice.

"This was me favourite!" He exclaimed in mock horror.

I leant up and stared at him silently before hitting him in the chest. I quickly snatched the pillow from behind John's head and hit him with it. John laughed and tackled me.

The fight went on until John had me straddled on the bed. I was looking up at him with a smile trying to fight off a blush. He was grinning at him, that beautiful honest grin.

"Give us a kiss" He laughed loudly. I continued to stare at him with a smile.

John leant down and his grin turned into a smile.

"Now, that might be an idea." He licked his lips and I hummed in reply.

John brought his head down and kissed me gently on my mouth.

It happened very fast and it ended very quickly.

John broke the kiss and smiled down at me and I never want to forget the look of love that shone in his eyes.

"Hey." He said.

"Hey." I said back.

John lifted me up and I ended up sitting in his lap. I nudged him with my shoulder and smiled shyly at him. I wondered what he was thinking and I blushed when he looked at me. I honestly thought he was going to kiss me again but instead he wrapped his arms around my waist and rested his head on my chest.

He didn't say a word and I awkwardly patted the back of his neck. I played with his hair and kissed his neck and tried to offer any comfort for whatever was wrong with him and I'd like to think I made him feel better.

"I want to go to London with you." I said 10 minutes later.

"Can I show you something?" John asked ignoring me. I crawled off his lap as he reached for the Guitar.

He put it in his lap and began to play it. The song sounded like nothing I had heard on the radio before and I was surprised at the chords he was playing since he couldn't even play Blue Moon. John looked at me briefly before opening his mouth.

_There are places I remember_

_All my life though some have changed_

_Some forever not for better_

_Some have gone and some remain_

_All these places have their moments _

_With lovers and friends I still can recall_

_Some are dead and some are living_

_In my life I've loved them all_

_But of all these friends and lovers_

_There is no one compares with you_

John looked at me and I stared at him in amazement. His voice and that smile, It made my heart jump and I shook my head in utter awe.

"You-that song...and you said you couldn't even play Blue Moon."

John laughed and stuck his tongue out.

"Just wanted to get you to play." He said and the honesty in his voice made me smile.

"I Want to go to London with you." I repeated and when John smiled at me with those lips I couldn't help but kiss him. John kissed me back and then we laid down together on the bed just kissing, we didn't do anything else and that was fine I just like being close to John.

Something about John made me happy and it wasn't like I wasn't happy without him it's just I felt peace, like I'd found my other half and that was completely stupid idea but it's just what I felt while being with him. Being with him was different than being with all the other people I had met in my life.

"I'm Happy." John said after a while and I knew that meant a lot. Him saying that meant a lot to me too.

My dad arrived at John's place half an hour later.

I hugged John tightly before meeting my father at the door. John stood next to his aunt as we left.

"How was your-your-"

"Date?" I interrupted with a faint smile. I saw my dad nod slightly.

"It was good." I said. "I had a good time." I thought my dad would be angry at that because there could be a lot of meaning behind my words but he just stayed silent and if I didn't know better I would have said he smiled.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six:

About a week after my first proper date with John I still had that same warm feeling stuck in my stomach, anytime I saw him It came back full force and he just made me smile (Not that smiling is a big deal for me, I had a lot of people who made me smile but something about John just made me feel odder).

Everything was going…right.

Until it wasn't and I hated when that happened.

I woke up one day and I felt odd. Sick, tired. I shook my head like I thought that would get rid of the problem.

"PAUL!" I heard my brother yell before he walked into my room.

"Get off your arse, Dad said you need to get ready support group."

I felt dizzy and my throat felt like fire as I tried to reply.

"Paul?" My brother walked closer to me and the concern in his voice made me wince.

I tried to get up and then I didn't feel anything, the last thing I heard was Mike calling my name and I heard the horror in his voice.

The next thing I saw was whiteness. I opened my eyes and I was alone in a clean, white Hospital room. I moved my head slightly and saw my dad standing outside the door and I knew he was crying, I hadn't seen him cry over me since I was diagnosed with Leukaemia when I was 15.

My Dad broke down and he hugged me tightly, at the time I didn't know what to think or do and I didn't even hug my dad back. I regret that a lot.

When my dad drove us home he let me lock myself in my room. I cried. A lot actually. I walked down after a few hours to see both my Dad and Mike crying, it was the first time I had seen Mike cry since mum died. It broke my heart because seeing them that upset over me made me realize how fucking broken they'd be if I died, at that moment I just wanted to crawl into my bed and stay there.

For the first few weeks I was in pain all the time and I remember the reactions of my friends when I told them-Dot cried and Ivan couldn't even say anything. I felt responsible for so many people being sad.

"Paul?" My Dad walked in, Mike was following closely behind, I tried to smile at him But the red marks around his eyes brought tears to mine.

"Hey." I greeted weakly.

Mike ran over and hugged me tightly, I hugged my little brother back and if I cried I don't remember but I think I should have.

My Dad wrapped his arms around both of us and I held on tightly to them as if it was the last time I'd ever feel them.

"John Lennon is outside." My Dad told me about 20 minutes later.

I smiled faintly and gripped Mike's hand tighter when I heard a sob escape his lips.

"I'll send him in then." My Dad sighed and I saw a small smile begin to form on his face.

"Come along Mikey" my father took my brothers hand and walked out the door but I didn't want them to go and I wasn't even sure I wanted to see John.

"Hey Paulie." John greeted and I frowned at the sound of his voice, it sounded so broken and worried and I felt terrible that I was the one who caused it.

"I'm sorry about London." I said. I wasn't sure after all this that I was even gonna be able to go and that made me feel worse.

John laughed softly (and I swear it was one of the most beautiful sounds I've heard) and sat down next to my bed on the comfortable looking brown chair near the middle of the bed.

"You had me worried sick you swine." John reached for my hand and stuck out his lip in a mock pout.

I looked at John's hand as he rubbed my hand with his thumb and I sighed heavily.

"Fuck Johnny I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted."

I smiled at John and he grinned back at me brightly. I missed that grin; I focused on John's grin trying to get everything else out of my mind.

John squeezed my hand tighter and looked at me in the eye, I stared right back because I knew whatever was to happen next was going to be serious (I could see it in John's eyes).

"I love you." John said straight faced voice thick with emotion that wasn't showing on his face.

"John-" I tried.

"No, Paul just listen." John interrupted me. "I love you, You know I do. I'm in love with you Paul and I'm not in the business of denying myself the simple pleasure of saying true things." John's voice was strong and he never broke eye contact with me.

I gulped and I tried to move my hand away but John held it tighter.

"Do you love me?" He asked.

"I..." I had no idea what to say. What was love? How did someone know they were in love? What were the signs? I gulped again. In the long run I hadn't even known John for that long but somehow I felt different being with John, something changed when I was with him and I didn't know if that was love or not but for all the years I won't have to meet someone else I hope that what I felt for John was indeed love.

"Yeah, I love you." I said finally. John's face broke out in a smile and that made me smile.

"I'm still sorry about not going to London." I apologized again.

"Who says you're not going?" John asked with a twinkle in his eyes.

John leant down and kissed me on the mouth gently, He then walked out of the room and I could tell he was grinning to himself. I like to think he was grinning because I said I loved him, I don't know if that's true but I like to think that's the reason.

Over the next couple of days George, Ivan, Dot and Jane had visited me.

George had sat on the bed holding my hand and even if that's not what Liverpool lads should do I still held onto his hand as tightly as he held onto mine.

Mick had visited me, he sat on the chair and he told me about all the 'gossip' in support group-Mick said Keith said hi but I doubted he did.

I'm glad Bob didn't visit because I probably would have thrown something at him.

Even Pete Shotton came to see me; he slapped my arm with a smile and said he was glad I was doing okay.

John had visited me a few more times, we never talked about that London trip but he always held my hand and kissed me before he left (I always held onto his hand and ignored the red lines on his wrist).

I had seen my doctor every day and I wasn't dying (well I was but I right at that moment) he just said I had a bad day. I liked my doctor, George Martin, he was old and kind and he fought in the war and when I had first been put into Hospital at 15 Dr Martin use to tell me stories about the war and it let me focus on something other than my treatment.

Nearly a week after I had fainted I was getting ready to leave the Hospital when John raced through the door and into my room wearing a large grin across his face.

"You'll never guess what I did." He said.

I shook my head at him and crossed my arms. I raised my eyebrow at him to continue.

John pulled out two plane tickets from his pocket and shoved them in my face. My eyes widened and I laughed nervously and held his wrists as I lowered his hands out of my face.

"John? What are you on?"

"I talked to your doctor and he said you can go to London with me as long as there's 'adult supervision'" John explained to me as if I was an idiot. I glared at my boyfriend (my stomach did odd flips even at the thought of the word).

"So? You want to bring your Aunt?"

"No! God no. Your dad." I looked at John in disbelief before laughing and slapping his arm.

"Good one" I laughed and shook my head.

"I said yes. I know how much it means to you even if you won't say it." I looked past John and saw my dad standing behind him with a smile (Not a tight fake one but a genuine one and it was the first time I'd seen him smile like that while near John.) I looked at my Dad for a short time before throwing my arms around John's neck in a tight embrace.

"Thank You." I whispered into his neck, John wrapped his arms around my waits and kissed my neck.

"Hey, the father is still in the room." My Dad sighed and I smiled at him gratefully from over John's shoulder.

My Dad left the room telling me to hurry up and pack my things for home so we could start packing for London. John had volunteered to help me, he gave me a wink and my dad looked at him with a disapproving stare before sighing and walking out the door. I could hear Mike laughing and I was glad he had stopped crying.

"What did you say to my dad to get him to agree to come?" I asked John when we were packing my things in the bag my dad had brought over to the Hospital for me.

"I just told him it would mean the world to you." John shrugged. "He loves you. He's a dull twat but he loves you."

I turned away from John and looked down at my hands. I felt like the twat, I should have known my dad did things for me not because he had to or got convinced to, just because he loved me. I felt like a swine for not seeing all the things he'd done for me out of his own love (him and Mike both).

"Thank you, Jo-" I stopped dead when I saw John grinning seductively at me. In his hands He held a pair of my boxers.

"Nice Paulie, real nice." He commented, he held my boxers in his hands and swayed them around while my face was burning red.

I picked up a pillow and threw it at John's face. He dropped my underwear and threw the pillow right back at me, I grunted slightly and leant on the bed as I ran out of breath. I took a deep gulp of air before hitting John over the head with the pillow; John laughed and lunged at me. His arms ended up around my waist, I ended up in his lap and we both ended up on the floor leaning against the wall. My head was spinning but I was too busy laughing to worry about it.

John held me tightly and kissed the back of my neck. I could feel him laughing against my skin and raw happiness escaped my mouth as I laughed breathlessly and I was just happy.

I hope John was too.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven:

Sitting at the airport with my dad and John was...awkward to say the least. Now, John isn't sexual with me in public but every time my dad looked at us John would wink at me and make a lewd comment and we both knew my dad was trying his hardest not to punch him in the face, But still I was glad John was enjoying himself even if my dad's sanity was the price to pay for his happiness.

I held John's hand tightly when we boarded the plane. I was so excited and nervous and I know John was too, I could tell by his eyes.

We sat down. Me and John in front of my dad, I kicked John's leg painfully and hissed at him to 'behave' he just grinned at me and kissed my nose, I rolled my eyes but couldn't stop myself from smiling.

John's hand was resting on my knee and his head had fallen on my shoulder, I smiled at him. John always looked so beautiful when he was asleep.

"Do you love him?" My Dad asked me.

"Yes." I answer; I won't have another chance at love so I'll say I love John for rest of my short life.

My Dad looked me at me. His eyes softened and he smiled, and to be honest I haven't seen him smile like that since mum was alive.

"I know. The way you look at him is the way I looked at your mother." My father's voice was soft and oh so fatherly it made me want to throw John off me and hug my dad and never let go. But I only took John's hand in mine and held on tightly.

"I really love him." I said and I hoped John had heard me.

My Dad nodded his head at me and smiled fondly. I loved that smile, I cherished that smile for the rest of my life.

"Why aren't you unpacking?" I asked John while I was unpacking; he was sitting in his bed flipping through some magazine that I didn't care about.

"I'll lose things." He answered without taking his eyes off the page he was on.

"Do you need a hand?" He asked me a minute later.

I smiled gratefully at him and nodded.

"Yes, God yes-" my voice was interrupted by the sound of John clapping loudly. My eyes slowly turned to slits and I crossed my arms.

"I was literally in the Hospital not even a week ago." I said with a bitchy tone.

"I love you." John grinned at me and made a kissy face, I threw my shoe and him But replied 'I love you too' while still unpacking my things.

"Are you nervous?" I asked as John and I stood in front of a large studio in London.

"Nah." John sniffed, he grinning mockingly at me and I knew he was nervous as hell.

"Should we knock?"

"Paul it's a music studio not your grandma's house."

"Yeah Well I ain't seeing no bell."

"Just wait, be patient grasshopper."

"You be patient."

Our meaningless banter was interrupted when a small, thin man opened the door and greeted us with a large smile. The man was young, probably only 20 or 21 at the most, He was indeed quite small and a bit too thin for his age, he had-I don't know how to say this without sounding rude-a rather big nose, wasn't unpleasant or ugly it was just there. He was wearing a black suite, he had an odd grey streak of hair and he was wearing about 4 Or 5 rings on his fingers.

"I'm Richard Starkey; you two must be Paul and John?" Richard asked.

John shrugged but nodded his head.

"I'm John and This-" John nodded his head in my direction. "-Is Paul."

Richard smiled at both us before leading us inside. The walls were white with records and awards hanging on the walls, I didn't have much time to marvel at the studio because Richard took us straight to Epstein's office very quickly.

Richard opened the door quietly and we all stood in the office while a man Sat at the desk flipping through paperwork. He hadn't even noticed we were there.

"Sir? Mr Epstein?" Richard called and kicked the desk harshly.

Mr Epstein's head snapped up and I was surprised at how young he was, probably only maybe 4 or 5 years older than Richard.

"Who are they? Why are there children in my office?" He asked and his voice was ruff and it sounded extremely sleep deprived.

"They're the kids, the ones from Liverpool I told you about?" Richard explained slowly. "You said they could show you one song-"

"Richard I don't have time for this! And I don't even remember you idiot!"

I didn't like the way he was yelling at Richard, Mr Starkey looked so frail and young and it didn't seem right for someone to yell at him.

"You promised." Richard insisted.

"Promises are for children." Mr Epstein dismissed.

"You're the one who called us children." John piped up and I had to resist the erge to kick him.

"John Lennon?" Epstein questioned, he then looked at me and asked: 'Paul McCartney?' In the same almost mocking tone. We both nodded and his eyes narrowed and I finally realised he wasn't just in a bad mood, he was drunk.

"I don't have time for sick...suicidal kids." John quickly covered up his wrist while Richard stood in front of us and glared at Epstein.

"Sick kids feel as though they are more important in this world when in reality they'll be gone fr-"

"Shut up! Shut your mouth!" Richard yelled and glared darkly at his boss. I could see his shoulders shaking in anger and Epstein only shook his head.

"We're leaving." John announced. He grabbed my hand in his and glared coldly at Brian Epstein. "Fuck you, Fuck you and your view on this world. Fuck. You." John walked briskly out of the office and out of the studio still holding my hand tightly.

"That dick! God I want to kill him!" John yelled as we got out of the door. "Fuck him!" I started to rub his arms but I felt tears leak out of my eyes. John saw and wrapped me in a tight hug.

"Paul! John!" John and I turned around and saw Richard running out of the studio and towards us.

"I'm so sorry about Brian, he was drunk and I should have known. It was my fault and-"

"It wasn't your fault. Really. It was that fuckers fault." John pointed to the building and flipped it The bird, it caused Richard to smile and I'm already beginning to think that he doesn't smile as often as he used to.

"Let me buy you guys a drink or something, to make up for Brian's behaviour?" Richards suggested.

"Why are you being so nice to us? Why do you care so much?" I just had to ask. Was it pity? Out of the goodness of his heart? Why?

What he said I didn't expect at all.

"Because I was a sick kid too. Spend over two years in Hospital all up, nearly died two times, I was ridiculed at school for being an idiot and because I was sick no one gave me a chance at doing the things other kids could do. I wanted to do something right because I know how you feel."

The three of us all stood in silence for a while, just looking at each other. Richard, he was sick and that's why he got so angry at Epstein for being rude. I smiled faintly.

John pointed at Richard and asked bluntly: "Is that why you're so small?"

I stared at John with wide eyes trying to hold in a small giggle but when Richard let out a quiet giggle of his own I couldn't help but laugh. John soon joined us and we looked like a bunch of idiots laughing at nothing but it was alright.

John and I had dinner with Richard, well Ringo-he likes that name, and nearly everyone calls him that. It's because of the rings on his fingers and he's fond of cowboys and Ringo Starr sounds a bit western. Rings was nice enough to pay for everything ('Rich Bastard' John had grinned at him), he was odd but me and John liked odd so it was fine. We told him about our friends and he said he would have liked to meet George because he sounded like he'd like a party and we all laughed. Turns out he was also from Liverpool like us (born and raised in the shitest part mind you), apparently according to himself Ringo was a brilliant drummer. When Ringo mentioned that, I saw John smile sadly at his food.

It was fun, it was okay.

It was late when John and I got back to our hotel room; my dad was already asleep so John and I sneaked into our room, trying hard not to make any noise.

We both ended up on my bed lying on our backs with our hands clasped tightly together.

"It could have been different." John said and I assumed he meant that trip to Epstein's office.

"The meeting with Epstein?" I asked just to make sure but John shook his head.

"No, just everything, everything could have been different." I turned my head slightly to look at him and saw John was just staring at the ceiling in deep thought.

"What do you mean?" I wanted to know what was going through his head, it always intrigued me.

"If you didn't have Leukaemia, if I wasn't so bloody sad, if George didn't have cancer and hell now if Rings didn't work for that twat. Things would have been so bloody different."

"You and I wouldn't have met." I said.

"Yes we would have, don't you ever say that, shit Paul of course we'd meet. You and George would meet in school and I'd meet you somehow, someway cause that's the way it's meant to be." John insisted. "Then we'd all meet Ringo, things would fall into place and I'd fall in love with you all over again." He continued.

"What place would we fall into?" I asked closing my eyes, trying to imagine the world he was describing.

"Wouldn't matter, we'd just all be together-you and I would be together."

"Why do you-how did you manage that one?" I asked in awe, my eyes still closed as I gripped John's hand tighter.

"I have a gut feeling." He said and the raw honesty in his voice made me smile.

I felt John shift on the bed and then I felt a pressure on my lips, I held John's hips as he kissed me and I smiled into his mouth.

Even if that world he was describing sounded better, I'd already decided this was pretty good too.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight:

Before John, my dad and I left London John and I saw Ringo one last time. Turns out straight after the dinner we had together Ringo went back to Epstein's office and quit, apparently Epstein was in shock while Ringo just stormed out. When he told us John laughed and slapped Ringo on the shoulder feeling incredibly proud, I asked him what he was going to do now and Ringo just smiled at me and said he might so some drumming. I hope he does.

While we were in the plane I was just thinking back to what John had said about all the things that could have been if things weren't the way they were. Maybe George and I would have met and Maybe John would have been happier and maybe we'd all have met Ringo but the longer I thought about it the more my heart just ached but things can't be different.

John had depression.

George had cancer.

Ringo was away in London.

I was going to die.

God, I wish I could grow old.

"Are you alright Paul?" John asked me quietly as my dad read the paper.

"Yeah." I shrugged. I turned my head and tried to smile at my boyfriend, I had hoped my smile looked genuine but i could tell from his eyes that he knew I was sad about something but I guess I wasn't really that sad, I loved London and I loved meeting Ringo and I loved John.

I kissed John and we both laughed when my dad basically yelled his discomfort.

I laid my head on John's shoulder and smiled.

The more I thought about that world John described the more I realized I was okay with my life. I was happy despite it all.

It had been a week since our trip to London and I had decided I was in love with John Winston Lennon, it wasn't the 'I'm going to die so I'll love while I can' It was the 'who the fuck cares if I'm going to die I really love this boy'. I loved him so much, I loved him so much and so it made it harder to deal with when John rang me up on a Thursday in tears.

"John, John what's wrong?" I asked into the phone while tugging on my jacket.

"Paul Oh God I'm so sorry." John sobbed out.

"Johnny please talk to me." I begged.

"My house, I-"

"I'll be there as soon as I can."

I arrived at John's place and hit the door until his Aunt opened it.

I made an excuse as to why I needed to see him so she wouldn't come up and when Mimi wasn't looking I ran to John's room, I could hear my heart beating in my chest. I was glad the door wasn't locked.

I opened it carefully.

"John?" I called.

He wasn't on his bed or in the room at all.

I heard a small sob, a small heartbreaking sob coming from the small bathroom connected to John's room, I was afraid to open the door because in my heart I knew what I would find.

"Oh Johnny." I said, tears already spilling out of my eyes.

John was sitting on the ground holding his wrist tightly but I could see some blood seeping through his fingers.

I quickly and clumsily ran to the cupboard above the sink trying to find Band-Aids and bandages and I when I found what I was looking for I sat down next to John. I gently pried his hand off his wrist and I almost threw up from the sight of the cut.

I wrapped the cut and put over 30 Band-Aids over it while sobbing violently, John watched me with a blank face and once I announced I was finished he hugged me.

He hugged me for what seemed like hours and I wasn't sure if he was comforting me or himself. We finally stood up and walked down to the kitchen ("I'm hungry" John had said, we both stared at each other for a few seconds and then we laughed through what tears we had left).

"John? Don't eat like a pig." Mimi scolded when she wandered into the kitchen. "I do wish you were more like Paul." She shook her head.

"Like Paul?" John asked as if his Aunt was insane. "He's pigger than me."

"Only a little." I added.

"Only a little He says." John scoffed.

"Really." I mock glared at John.

"Nah I'm only joking, you're too pretty to be a pig." John smiled.

"I am you know." I said to Mimi. "My beauty takes peoples breath away."

"It actually happened to one of our friends, George." John added.

"Terrible shame that."

John gave me a smile and laughed, it was genuine and happy and you'd never guess what he was doing only 5 minutes before.

Mimi's eyes were glued to John's wrist and when she heard him laugh her head snapped up in shock, she then looked at me and brought me into a tight hug.

"I thank God for you every day." She whispered into my ear.

I blushed and laughed nervously. It was odd hearing her say that because I thanked God for John too.

"I love you." He told me when we got back to his room.

"I love you too." I said back.

John kissed me on the mouth as I held his wrist gently.

He lowered me on his bed while I kissed his neck.

John kept whispering that he loved me and I always said it back. I'm so happy I did.

I'd gotten home late that night, I rung George in tears just wanting him with me. I didn't tell him why and He didn't ask.

I was sitting on my bed when George walked into my room; he smiled at me and flicked my head.

He looked so thin and frail but he also looked happy.

"How was London?" He asked me. He had asked me that the day I got home but I had really only told him half the stuff John and I did. I smiled gratefully at him and I'm glad George didn't mention my red eyes.

I launched into the full story and he listened with wide, happy eyes.

He laughed when I told him about Ringo and that twat Epstein. He grinned smugly when I told him Ringo wished he could have met him and I couldn't help but think, Yeah Ringo and George probably would have gotten along.

Once I had finished the story I simply looked at him. I wonder if what John said was true...would me and George still have met if things were different. I wasn't sure but I was happy I'd met George, even if the reason was terrible. Without thinking I lunged at George and wrapped my arms around him in a hug. He hugged me back with a laugh and in that moment I was just grateful for him.

I think I cried but I wasn't sure. I was just thankful for him and John, I felt really happy.

"Hey," John greeted me 3 days later. He was standing outside the Cavern Club; I waved at him as I approached.

"Johnny." I nodded. I tried to ignore his long sleeved shirt and smiled at him faintly.

"Let's go for a walk." He said. I took his hand in mine and we started walking.

"I've been thinking about what you said, you know when you said you, me, George and Rings would just end up together if things were different. I laughed when I thought about it because imagine us four together. Four fucked up lads all thrown together." I looked at John and smiled widely. "But I think your right, I think we-you and I-would have still been together." I needed to tell him I just wanted to let him know in any way possible that I loved him so much.

John looked at me with a faint smile.

"I love you so much Paul, you'll never know how much I love you. I never, never want you to forget that. No matter what happens I just want you to know I love you."

"I love you too." I said back straight away.

John smiled and he kissed me, but I pushed him away slightly.

"I mean it John. I do love you, it's not young love or anything like that I just Really love you, like I'd I want to love you forever if I could." I just wanted him to know that before I...died, I just needed him to understand.

"I love you more." He whispered before kissing me.

We walked around for hours, I was really happy and I knew he was too But there was something in John's eyes that made me worry.

We spent so much time together and every time John laughed I just thought everything was going to be fine, everything was going to work out.

He forced me to write songs with him, forced me to sing and play the guitar every time we were together and I knew despite my protests that he knew I was happy. John introduced me to some of his older friends and made me see Ivan and Dot more than I used to. We spent so much time at the Hospital with Pete or practising Guitar with George (I had no idea John was preparing me for when He wasn't going to be around).

I had known John for almost a year and I loved him so much and he loved me, I never doubted that even when September came around.

John Winston Lennon died 12 days into September, car accident and I swear if you say he committed suicide I'll hit you. I swear.

(He didn't you know, I know you think he did but he didn't. I knew him. He didn't.)


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine:

I wasn't even the one who got the call; my dad was.

He woke me up at 7AM, Sat on my bed, put both his hands on my shoulders and told me John had been in an accident, his car was found and he was dead. I don't remember my exact reaction but I think I laughed quietly then just went silent.

My Dad asked if he could do anything. I stayed silent.

He asked if I needed George or Ivan and I just looked at him, stared at him and said I needed John. I think that's when I started crying.

"He's gone!" I sobbed into my dad's chest. He hugged me tightly and kissed my head until he was nearly in tears himself.

I cried for what seemed like hours and when I felt myself calm down I left my room, got on my bike and cycled to John's home. My Dad didn't stop me, neither did my brother. I think I heard them crying but I didn't look back.

Mimi opened the door and once she saw it was me her face softened and she patted my cheek with her hand gently. I saw tears in her eyes and I marvelled at the strength she must have had to put on that faint smile for me.

Mimi kindly let me walk up to John's room but before I did I turned around and looked at her.

"He didn't kill himself. I don't care what people are gonna say, I know he didn't."

Mimi looked at me and we shared a look between us that I knew meant something.

I needed to say that though, I needed to defend John when he couldn't.

I looked around his room slowly, tears where in my eyes and I looked through all the things he kept.

I gently picked up the Rickenbacker and turned it around in my hands. The weeks I had spent playing that thing upside down, re-tuning it when John couldn't. John had written songs on that Guitar, He loved it and now it sat gathering dust in a corner.

I looked at the photo of his mother that he always kept near his bed. She was so beautiful Julia, I didn't believe in heaven but if believing meant John could see her again then I'd believe in anything (another photo was next to hers, me and John smiling at the camera with our arms wrapped around each other. I was so happy when I first saw that photo sitting beside John's bed, when I had pointed it out John had blushed and made a rude joke but he was smiling).

I looked through John's desk draws and smiled at the silly drawings he kept. They were ridiculous and so funny, I'd spent a long time laughing at his art (John was so happy when I did, he'd always tease me whenever I drew something though).

In the draws all put together in a small notebook were some songs John and I had written. They were silly little things like:

'Please, Please me'.

'I Wanna Hold Your Hand'.

'She Loves You'.

'A Hard Days Night'.

'I Saw Her Standing There'.

'If I Fell'.

I wasn't very sure if they'd do anything if things were different but I was proud of them nonetheless. John had forced me to write songs of my own, he always tried so hard to get me to do the things He knew would make me happy. It annoyed me but I loved him for it all the same.

I opened the last draw and pulled out a large book, a photo album I discovered as I opened the first page. I put one of my hand to my heart and smiled through some tears as I flipped the pages….

Me and George grinning at the camera, arms locked, Guitars strapped to our backs.

I turned to another page.

Me and John standing beside Pete's bed, all three of us making faces at the camera. The picture was blurry so no doubt it was George who took the photo.

Another turn to a page.

George and John squinting at the camera, George was wearing John's glasses and John had George in a headlock.

I flipped the book again.

Me, Ringo and John standing beside one another smiling.

I closed the album before I started sobbing and laughed quietly only because John had said he was too disorganised to keep photo's ("I live in the moment Paulie!" He had moaned dramatically. "I only have that one photo of us and me mum beside me bed cos I haven't lost 'em yet.").

"You lying Twat." I whispered wiping away my tears.

"He wanted you to have it." Mimi's voice made me almost throw the photo album up in the air and scream.

I heard Mimi's sad voice chuckle.

"You-uh you startled me." I looked at the album in my hands and held it up for her to see.

"He wanted me to keep this?"

"He said it was going to be a Christmas present." Mimi answered with a small, sad smile.

I stared at her then stared at the Photo album in my hand, I felt my lips quiver and my eyes water and then I felt myself walk towards Mimi and hug her tightly. We didn't cry, no we just stood there for a moment.

"Don't be silly now." Mimi managed a laugh; she patted my back motherly and kissed my forehead. In different circumstances I would have been shocked at the gentleness and fondness she showed (in different circumstances John would be standing next to me just as shocked).

I got home late. I spent over three hours cycling around town before finally heading home. Once I was riding up my driveway I finally saw a small figure sitting on the steps to The door, as I got closer I realised it was George.

"What the hell you lunatic!" I yelled taking off my jacket and throwing it around his body. "It's bloody freezing, how long have you been sitting there?"

George looked up at me, his face was stony but his eyes were deep and sad.

"He's gone and well I just-I just thought you might need….me." George said with a sad, small voice.

I crouched down to George and we sat next to each other in the freezing cold on the steps to my house in silence.

"I miss him." George finally said.

I nodded and clutched the photo album to my chest painfully.

"Me Too."

A few days later me and George attended Support Group.

When Mal saw us (more so me) walk in he tried to smile at us George just sneered like he always did but there was a sadness to it, I tried to smile charmingly but I couldn't quite do it.

We all sat down. Nothing was different, I'm sure many people that have attended this support group have died in the past so John's passing wasn't that special or different. I guess that's what made me so sad.

The group started and once again Jane smiled and laughed and when no one was looking she was quiet and sad (but she smiled faintly to herself once and I wondered what changed).

Mick was sitting silently next to Keith (but Mick's eyes didn't look as sad as they once did, and I think I even saw Keith crack a small smile at some lame joke Mal had told).

Bob went on another speech I didn't understand but ended it with "and I'm proud to say I have no sign of Cancer!" He bowed and grinned and gave Mick a high five that caused Keith to grin and Jane to giggle quietly.

George still sneered at Mal and made some joke about how he was a smoker (his eyes were sad but I knew they wouldn't be like that forever).

I smiled at the familiarity of it all but also at the changes. All these people had changed. I had stopped coming to this support group and in that time they had changed….gotten better. I had finally realised the world-people-didn't revolve around my life and my feelings, things change and time doesn't stop no matter what your feeling or how bad things are.

When the circle finally came to me all I could do was smile.

"My names Paul, I'm 17, I have Leukaemia and I'm doing better."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten:

It was a Wednesday the Funeral, I laughed when my dad told me. A Wednesday, same day we met. Stupid fucking coincidence.

It was the Tuesday before when I was working out what do to.

I wasn't going to speak, I had made sure to tell Mimi that. I didn't want to cry in front of my family and John's, I couldn't do it, I just couldn't.

I was pacing my room when my dad opened my door telling me someone was here to see me, I thought it was George or Ivan or hell even Mick but when I walked down to the living room I was met with big, sad blue eyes.

"Ringo?" I said in shock.

The small man I had met in London walked over to me and hugged me tightly around the shoulders. His thin arms held me in a strong embrace, his face pushed in my neck as he tried to control his breathing so he didn't cry.

"Shit Paul, are you-shit are you ok?" He asked me.

I was glad my dad had left the living room as Ringo and I sat down.

"I'm good, better than I was when I found out." I answered honestly.

"I-I talked with John's aunt and she said I could attend the Funeral." Ringo smiled sadly trying to sound adult and proper.

"That's…That's brilliant, John would love that." I said and smiled at Ringo encouragingly.

Ringo and I stopped mid conversation when George came running in. He stopped dead in his tracks and laughed nervously.

"Hey" He waved, his face flushed in embarrassment.

"I'm Richard but you can call me Ringo." Ringo smiled largely and I saw George's eyes widened in recognition.

"Oh! Yeah I know." My younger friend smiled back.

I stared at Ringo and George and couldn't help but let my thoughts wander back to John and that world he had described to me in London.

'We've found each other all right.'

I felt my heart ache and my hands twitch.

'John was right'.

I suddenly got off the couch and smiled sadly at my two friends.

"I need help with something."

I arrived at the Funeral with Mike and my dad. I dragged them over to were George and his family was sitting with Ringo. I sat beside Ringo, George was on his other side and I braced myself for the Funeral. I tried to ignore the way my father was looking at me, like I was glass but eventually I grabbed his hand and held on tight.

Mimi stood up at the podium, very graceful and poised but I could see her mask breaking.

"John" she began. "Was simply a menace, he loved getting into trouble and annoying you as much as possible." Mimi stopped for a moment and laughed, I could only guess memories were flying through her head faster than the speed of light "But he was so gentle and loving and so, so, so strong and just as stubborn-just like his mother, who he loved so much and she loved him in return." Her voice broke; she wiped away tears as she carried on. "You couldn't have found a better person than John, or a more pure heart, he was so many things and-" that's when Mimi started crying.

My finger nails dug into my dad's hand and I saw Ringo's shoulders shake.

"I love him, I will continue to love him. When the police ran me to-to tell me about the crash, as soon as they mentioned his names I just said 'Oh what's he done now.'" Mimi cried again but managed a fond, nostalgic smile. "I just-I just love him." She said simply.

One of Julia's little girls-Jackie-helped her off the podium and hugged her tightly.

Pete Shotton was next.

He had demanded to be let out of the Hospital to attend the Funeral. He was thin and sickly looking, but his blonde hair was done up in the Elvis style he and John always wore and that made me smile.

"John was my best friend. He was a pain In me arse most of the time but he meant more to me than anyone else-sorry mum." I heard small laughs coming from the people around me. I leant my head against my dad's shoulder.

"He was a trouble maker; he must have been a Teddy Boy in a past life, or a pirate. John was one-no, the best best friend anyone could have. He cared about people like none of us will never do, he's the only person I know who would have given his soul to you, he's better than all of us. Much better than me." Pete had tears streaming down his face and so did I.

"After his mum..died, he changed. Changed for the worst, he was still smiling and being as arse but he was sad…that is until he met Paul." I lifted my head up from my dad's shoulder in shock while Pete just looked at me with a proud, thankful smile.

"John didn't look at anyone the way he looked at Paul. And he was so happy, so if I hear anyone say he….he k-killed himself I'll battle the lot a ya." Pete shook his fist in mock warning before he started smiling.

"I'm probably going to die….but if I don't, if I wake up from another coma I'll tell the doctors to put me back under because I don't want to be in a world without John Winnie Lennon." I tried to keep in my sobs as Pete had his mom help him off the podium. I saw Pete smile at me and I cried harder.

Mimi got again and beckoned me to come up.

Me got up and Ringo and George followed closely behind.

As I stood at the podium George tuned his Guitar and Ringo Sat at his drums (which had been there all through the service).

I glanced at George quickly, he gave me the thumbs up but I felt a tug at my heart when I saw the tears on his cheeks.

"I-I met John on a Wednesday you know." I winced at how dumb I sounded. "He wouldn't stop staring at me and then he asked me out, only a few minutes into meeting him. The nerve he had, that John." I looked at all the people and tried my best to smile through my tears.

"He..He did love me and I our love story was….was like all love stories, it'll die with us so I won't go into detail and tell you all because it's between us. Only us. I just wanna say that-that I did love him, he changed me and yes he was pain but hey so am I so we blanched well. He and I-we knew each other and I need him like mad." I felt tears stream down my face and I knew I was near breaking down.

"I'd go through all this again just to spend more time with John. It was short but I had the most wonderful with one of the world's my talented people. Did you know he could sing? And play? And write? Well he could and he was bloody good too." I took a large intake of breath and moved the Mic to the piano and Sat down.

"I wrote this song for him, it's called 'Golden Slumbers'".

Tears fell onto the piano keys as I started playing.

Once there was a way,

To get back homeward.

George started to strum slowly on his Bass Guitar and I felt sure of myself for the first time.

Once there was a way

To get back home.

Sleep, pretty darling,

Dot not cry

And I will sing a lullaby.

Ringo started to play and my heart clenched in sadness because God, John would have loved to hear it.

Golden slumbers,

Fill your eyes

Smiles await you when you rise.

Sleep pretty darling

Do not cry

And I will sing a lullaby.

I saw Mimi crying and my dad hugging Mike and I looked at the coffin and I felt sick and sad and safe all at the same time but I continued to sing and play through the tears that were streaming down my face.

Once there was a way

To get back homeward

Once there was a way

To get back home

Sleep, pretty darling

Do not cry

And I will sing a lullaby.

We stopped playing and for a slight second I could almost feel John grinning at me.

I looked at George and Ringo and felt suddenly at home.

In the end John was right, I laughed inwardly at the oddness of everything.

We all were together and I just wished it was in a different way.

I hopped of the piano and was engulfed in a group hug by George and Ringo. We held into each other as we walked off the podium. I cried into Ringo's chest while George was trying to get his Guitar off around his neck, He eventually took it off but immediately dropped it. George spent five seconds just staring at the instrument on the floor. I let out a tired giggle as George kicked the instrument in frustration, Ringo dropped his head and I heard a small, sad laugh escape his lips.

Ringo wrapped his arms around both me and George and we laughed.

Is it weird if I say I felt John with us? Because I did and that made me smile.

He would be calling us queers but he'd then kiss me and we'd all laugh.

I spared one last glance at the shiny, black coffin before I sat down, hugging my dad tightly.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven:

The funeral ended and I was still in tears. George and Ringo stood by my side and I just felt like things fell into place.

Then Ringo had to leave.

He lived in London and had even gotten a good drumming gig there.

Ringo smiled at me when he left and that made me feel better, his smile set me at ease.

And when George and Ringo hugged goodbye I just felt it was sad for them because I knew they would have gotten along if things were different. But Ringo smiled at George too and I think that made a lot of things ok.

It had been five days since John's funeral. George and I were almost always together (I had been to the Hospital twice but I'm ok with that), my dad and I weren't fighting as much and that made Mike happy.

Everything was normal I guess.

I got an email from Ringo on the sixth day after John's funeral.

The email read:

Dear Paul,

I hope this isn't a bad time but I'd like to bring to your attention that I have something important to say that involves Brian Epstein.

You must be wondering why that's even a little bit important but Epstein received a letter from John three days before he died.

I had to force Brian to read it as John wrote 'that Fucking twat had better read this or so help me God' on the envelope.

After forcing a rather drunk Brian (my friend Rory had to help hold him down) to read the email Brian simply looked at me and said-and I quote-'send it to the boyfriend and tell him well done'. The look on his face made me wonder what the hell the letter had said but don't worry I didn't read it.

I've attached the letter to this email. I know you might not want to read it and I'll understand if you don't but I do so think it will do you some good.

Peace and love, Ringo Starr Xx

I stared at the computer before slowly clicking on the attachment in the corner.

John's hand writing was surprisingly neat; I knew that meant it was important.

Brian Epstein,

You made a shitty mistake, you know that right? I don't know about me but Paul is one of the most talented people you'll ever meet. He could write songs that will go down in history and the only reason he's not famous is because the world fucking sucks and he has Leukaemia. He's more talented than anyone person you'll ever meet, he has more heart and more love in it then you'll ever have in your whole life.

I'm writing this because I want you to know Paul so you understand what a big mistake you've made.

Here's the thing about Paul: If you didn't know him-and I mean really know him-You would think he's just a pretty face but he's so much more than that. He's talented and amazing and so not worth your time. He's written songs that are better than any you'll ever listen to, he's got a voice better than any you'll ever hear.

You told us that 'sick kids' think all the world revolves around them but Paul's different, he treads lightly on the earth and he doesn't care if it remembers him (in fact he'd rather it didn't) but it should. See that's how Paul's different, he's the only person in this world that won't be remembered that really should. The world should never forget him but it will and some may say that's a tragedy, that the world doesn't know him but fuck anyone who says that because I knew him and that means just as much.

Paul fell sick just a few weeks before coming to London and when He was unconscious I snuck into see him. He looked so peaceful and beautiful and it was hard to believe he was dying.

I looked at him and just thought about how different things should be for him. He'd be famous and you'd want to manage him But like I said before you wouldn't be worth his time. I thought him being famous and healthy was good enough for me but even if it's selfish I'm still glad he fell in love with me instead.

What else? Paul is so beautiful, so talented and so amazing. Your whole world could light up just from seeing his smile. He doesn't realize how much he means to people and that adds to his charm.

You'll never know what life is like knowing him and I'm glad because you don't deserve to. Paul's worth more than ten of you and all your money put together.

He's worth me than me too. I'm so privileged to have loved him.

You've made a mistake Epstein and you'll regret it every day I swear to you.

- John Lennon

I felt tears fall down my face and I was laughing quietly.

It took me a minute or two to realize there was another attachment. I opened it and felt more tears fall and more laughter escape my mouth.

In my messy hand writing there was the photo copied lyrics and music to a song I had written.

'Yesterday'. It's name was.

I didn't even care that Brian Epstein liked the song I just cared that John cared enough to sent it to him. A final 'fuck you' from John to Brian.

"Thank you." I sobbed out in a breathy laugh.

I managed to type a reply back to Ringo and then I just sat on my bed. I don't really remember what I did after that. The weeks after the Funeral were a blur but I remember reading the letter one more time. I smiled and laughed and just thought of John and even though things were shit I thought that maybe, just maybe, things wouldn't be too shit for too long.

Four weeks after the Funeral I went around to George's place.

He was sick and couldn't get out of bed, He was thinner but his smile looked happy and his eyes were bright.

"Hey." I greeted as I sat down on the chair next to his bed.

"Hey." George smiled back at me.

We sat in silence until he looked at me again and smiled happily.

"I'm glad your here." George told me honestly.

"I am to. I missed ya Georgie." I grinned at him.

"I'm always better when you're here." George confessed. "You...you smell like home." George nodded at me and leant back in his bed.

"What? Like old rooms and undercooked food?" I laughed awkwardly. He didn't really think I smelt like the support group did he?

George laughed at me and shook his head gently.

"No you just always smelt like home."

I looked at George, I could feel my mouth turn up in a faint smile as I held his hand gently in mine.

I didn't know what to say, I couldn't say anything really. I just held his hand and smiled at him the best I could.

George stared back at me until he moved his hand out of my grip and leant over the other side of his bed. He pulled his Guitar onto his lap and absently began to tune it.

"I-I know how you miss John and you...you're really sad Paul and I get that, I understand so I-I just wanted to..its a song I wrote-nothing that good but I just thought you'd like to hear it?" George stuttered and asked me.

I stared at him and I could feel my fingers twitch. I hadn't played or written anything since the Funeral. I eventually nodded and George smiled sadly at me.

He began to play chords I had no idea He knew how to play that well. He looked at me briefly before singing.

_Here comes the sun, here comes the sun_

_And I say it's all right_

_Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter_

_Little darling, it feels like years since it's been here_

_Here comes the sun, here comes the sun_

_And I say it's all right_

_Little darling, the smiles returning to the faces_

_Little darling, it seems like years since it's been here_

_Here comes the sun, here comes the sun And I say it's all right_

_Sun, sun, sun, here it comes_

_Sun, sun, sun, here it comes_

_Sun, sun, sun, here it comes_

_Sun, sun, sun, here it comes_

_Sun, sun, sun, here it comes_

_Little darling, I feel that ice is slowly melting_

_Little darling, it seems like years since it's been clear_

_Here comes the sun, here comes the sun_

_And I say it's all right_

_Here comes the sun, here comes the sun_

_It's all right, it's all right._

I felt tears spring to my eyes in sadness and I felt my heart clench in pride.

My little baby brother, all bloody grown up.

"Paul?" George fiddled with his Guitar and stared at me with a mixture of worry And guilt in his eyes.

I laughed. Tears fell from my eyes freely and I just laughed. George stared at me.

I laughed and I flung my arms around George and we both laughed. We didn't cry and I'm surprised we didn't, We just laughed because that's what people do when things are shit but things were going to get better.

And they did.

A year from the day John Winston Lennon had died me, George and Ringo visited his grave. Ringo left for Humurg three days later, He was really doing well drumming I suppose.

Pete had passed away in March but just before he did we talked about John. And that made me feel happy, it really did.

Bob had stopped attending support group and I sometimes see him when I'm out of the Hospital and I even sometimes say hello.

Keith had relapsed and Mick stayed by his side, when I first met them I had no idea why Mick insisted to stay by Keith but I think I understand it a little better now.

Jane had been doing well. I think so at least, she didn't get as sad as often anymore. She's started to smile more when no one is looking.

Little Georgie is getting on strong, he's tough that boy and I'm so proud of him. George doesn't like it when I fuss over him But I always do, makes me feel like nothing's changed.

My Dad walked into my room carrying a load of washing, he looked over my shoulder but I threw myself over the paper in front of me to shield it from his view.

"What are you doing?" He asked with an irritated sigh.

"Writing." I said simply.

As he left I stuck my tongue out like a child and I smiled when I heard his laugh. He doesn't do that a lot, not genuinely.

I turned back to my paper and leant back proudly.

I glanced to my side to just look at the photo of John I had on my desk. He was smiling and his hair was done up like Elvis, his arm was slung around my shoulders and I was winking at the camera.

Don't look at me

It's way too soon to see

What's gonna be

Don't look at me

All my life

I never knew

What I could be, what I could do

Then we were new.

You came along

And made my life a song

One lucky day

You came along.

Just in time

Well I was searching for a rock

You came along

Then we were new.

It was a privilege to have my heart broken by you Johnny Boy.


End file.
